


The Secret of Redemption

by echoes_of_another_life



Category: CW Network RPF, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Anal Sex, Bottom Jared, Bottom Jared Padalecki, M/M, Supernatural AU - Freeform, Top Jensen Ackles, Vampire Jensen, Vampire Jensen Ackles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-27
Updated: 2016-03-27
Packaged: 2018-05-29 12:11:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6374245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/echoes_of_another_life/pseuds/echoes_of_another_life
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ancient ennui-rife vampire Jensen is BORED BORED BORED ... until he sees the kid on the corner, under the streetlight. Too tall, needs a haircut and a good meal, but GOD, the sight does something to the old bloodsucker.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Secret of Redemption

The Secret of Redemption 

 

“Watch where you’re going dude.”

Jensen caught the other guy’s scent as they bumped shoulders, watched as he staggered a little before finally gaining his footing, words slurred. There was a time when Jensen would have killed him instantly simply for crossing Jensen’s path, but now? Now he just couldn’t wait to rid himself of the stench of cheap tobacco and even cheaper booze that hung in the air between them. 

Filth. 

Everywhere he turned there was the stench of humanity.

There was a time when feeding was the inevitable outcome of the hunt, dark and delicious as he listened to the heartbeat of each victim, loud and erratic with fear and the realisation that they were going to die. He revelled in it, the fact that all his victims could do was stare in horror as his fangs descended and his eyes flashed a golden hue. 

Once he was a creature of want and need, a creature of appetites – of selfish, carnal desire. The hours his victims spent writing in pain, and sometimes it was hours. Long torturous hours of agony, of fear, of wanting… He had feasted on their cries and whimpers, as he fed on their bodies. Sweet, diabolical nectar.

Pain, he loved to see their pain, especially the men. Jensen liked to look them in the eye, just once before he sank his teeth into the their necks and drank down their grief, before releasing his hold on them and letting them fall clumsily across the still forms of their wives, and sometimes even their children. Letting them live long enough for them to see what a failure they were, as a husband, a father, a protector. 

There was an art to the kill, and Jensen used to savour it, obsessed on it. He felt no pain; he was the instrument of pain.

His need exceeded sex and violence, exceeded the need for food. It was a desire for complete mastery. He liked to engulf and to annihilate his victims. He revelled, destroyed and defiled; devaluing his victims simply for the sheer pleasure it brought him.

But that was then. Now the stench of humanity permeated every fibre and wrapped around him like a shroud. He could smell their despair a mile away. Scavengers, nothing but scavengers, even the vampires, this is what they’d come here for, to prey on what was nothing more than moving carcasses, like vile, disgusting vultures circling overhead, scouring the ground for leftovers. Where was the hunt? The skill? The fun? 

Jensen paused, took a deep unnecessary breath as night fall descended. The dark had always been the enemy of humanity. The creak of floorboards as the house settled for the night, a door closing, bringing with it the fear of what lurked in the night. Every child learned at a young age to fear the sounds that come with darkness, a tree branch scraping across a windowpane, the furnace fan kicking in. The slightest sound or movement interpreted as a monster, the wind and rain outside, all just a teaser of the horror that must surely follow. The sounds that preceded the darkness had long been their enemies, and their nightmares. 

To Jensen, they were his friends, allies who aided him, that worked with him to fuel their fear. Humanity feared what they couldn’t see, but what they really feared was the things that the darkness shielded, the things that lurked in the shadows, like now.

Jensen’s lips parted on a predatory grin as he listened as the other man’s footsteps receded into the distance. 

Where was the utter dread? How could he slake his thirst, gulp down their fear and suffering, when most of them walked willingly into his arms; craving the end he offered?

Addicts, drunks, vagrants, they proved quite the banquet for someone like him.

A vampire, but to Jensen, they were rotten, filthy and infected with everything they hid, and the stench, the stench was unbearable. 

He was debating calling it a night, and going home hungry. He definitely wasn’t going to settle for the next drunk, or worse addict to cross his path, drink down whatever they’d poisoned their system with, only to fight the lethargy it caused him.

A poison that lingered long after the body was cold. Much as the sunlight made him weak and vulnerable, so did the drugs. 

That’s when he caught the scent, the bone-deep stench of despair, tinged with a sliver of hope, something he hadn’t experienced in an age. Hope was a rare thing, something Jensen believed had been lost, beaten down, forgotten as time and the ever-changing centuries helped chip away what little hope was left. But now he could feel the prick of his fangs and something of the selfish, carnal desire he so longed for, as his body reacted along with his hunger. 

Jensen scanned the street ahead, excitement pulsing through his veins as he caught sight of him. He couldn’t have been more than eighteen, tall, taller than Jensen, which was rare. Jensen took a moment to look his fill, watched as the kid stepped beneath the streetlight as a car pulled up alongside the kerb. For once Jensen was glad he didn’t need to breathe, sure that the sight that met his eyes would have robbed him of his breath. 

Beautiful. 

His hair was longer than Jensen liked, a rich chestnut brown, his bangs falling forward to hide his face, his hazel eyes watchful, wary, wide nose, and plump lips.

He was slimmer than Jensen preferred, which was nothing a good meal wouldn’t solve, should Jensen allow him to live that long.

Jensen quickened his pace as the car pulled to a stop, turned his head toward the driver his eyes flashing a deep golden hue as, he all but growled in the man’s direction, nothing too menacing just enough to stake his claim, waited as the driver slammed his foot on the accelerator and pulled away, a look of fear and disbelief on his face. By the time he’d made it home or to the nearest bar, he would have talked himself out of thinking Jensen was anything but another punter, nothing unusual, the booze and the overhead light playing tricks on him. 

Whatever, he was no longer Jensen’s concern. 

Jensen waited for a moment, blinked as his eyes shifted from gold to a deep emerald green, his fangs well hidden before he turned to face the kid, who had taken a step back. 

“Hey,” Jensen said, taking a step forward, into the kid’s space, matched him step for step as the kid backed up, until his back slammed into the wall behind him, whether it be instinct or self-preservation, the kid look scared. 

“Easy,” Jensen said, he could make him relax, force him to breathe easy, but for some unknown reason Jensen wanted to explore, and to learn all there was to know about him. 

Starting with his name. 

“Jared, my name’s Jared,” the kid said, almost as if reading Jensen’s mind, which gave Jensen a moment’s pause, sure he hadn’t spoken his desire out loud.

He was close, so close. Jensen could feel Jared’s breath, hot and heavy against his cheek, hear his heartbeat, fast, erratic as it pounded in his chest, reverberating. The pulse in his neck throbbing in time with each beat. 

And then Jared smiled. A smile that belied the fear Jensen could sense coming off him in waves. 

The corners of his mouth lifted, a dimple appeared highlighting the mole, which sat a little to the left of his mouth, and for a second Jensen was tempted to take him by the shoulders and shake him. To warn him of the danger he was in, but not before Jensen had a taste. 

“Cash up front,” Jared said, a slight hitch to his breath, smile still in place despite the nervous demeanour. 

Jensen nodded, reached inside the pocket of his leather jacket, pulled out a wad of notes, and handed them over. Either Jared had no sense of self-worth or had been undercharging his customers because the look on his face when Jensen failed to count, just handed the money over was one of sheer disbelief.

It was no matter; Jensen could always retrieve the cash once he’d had his fill of Jared. It's not like he’d need it after Jensen was done with him.

“Where to?” Jensen asked, hoping that Jared had a place to go, sure he wasn’t going to fuck him in a dark alley between the filth and vermin, and Jensen had a thing; he never brought his meals home. He had no intention of tainting his living space. Jensen had learned long ago how fast decay sets in, easier to walk away from a corpse than dispose of one

“There’s a motel around the corner,” Jared said, smile wavering a little as, he no doubt wondered if the cost was coming out of what Jensen had given him, but Jensen just nodded and held out his arm for Jared to lead the way. 

The motel was dingy, the vacancy sign missing several of its letters, the owner no doubt used to rooms being rented by the hour, but Jensen was in no rush to introduce himself. Instead, he handed Jared another wad of notes and hung back as Jared made the booking, less chance of being seen, or later identified. 

“All done?” Jensen asked as Jared made his way back across the parking lot to room twenty-two. Jensen could smell the apprehension coming from Jared and wanted to ask why. Why was he doing what he was doing at such a young age, where was his family? His friends? But he held back, having long ago learned not to play with his food. 

“What do I call you?” Jared asked.

Usually, Jensen didn’t get this far; he stalked, hunted his victims all in the name of sport, but never long enough to learn anything about them other than what they tasted like as he drank them dry. But there was that smile again, wavering at Jensen’s hesitation, and Jensen figured it couldn’t hurt. Jared wouldn’t live long enough to become accustomed to the sound of it. 

“Jensen,” Jensen said. “You can call me Jensen.”

Jared took a breath, quiet, but loud enough for Jensen to hear, pick up the fear, something he loved, encouraged, even savoured. He waited as Jared stripped down to single layers, and almost gasped aloud at what the oversized jacket kept hidden. Jared was thin, probably due to lack of a decent diet, but he was still beautiful, with wide shoulders that tapered down to a trim waist, a Texas belt buckle preventing his jeans from sliding down his long, lean legs. 

“You’re beautiful,” Jensen said. “Anyone ever tell you that?”

Jared ducked his head, his hair falling down to shield his face, his smile. 

“Nothing that a haircut and decent meal wouldn’t solve,” Jensen said as he shrugged out of his jacket to reveal a dark-green t-shirt, the material clinging to Jensen’s frame, perfect fit that showed off his well-muscled arms and broad chest. 

“My mother used…” Jared caught himself, realised Jensen wasn’t asking for his life story or any story for that matter. He'd paid for sex, not a therapy session, biting his lip to prevent him spilling the sordid mess that was now his life. 

“Your mother?” Jensen asked, realising he was overstepping the mark. He should have Jared naked by now, spread out on the bed, his cock hard, ready and wanting. Instead, here he was wondering, why Jared was selling himself on a street corner, and yet, still be able to smile the way he did. Hope the way he did. 

Jared took a deep breath, shook himself, and reached for his t-shirt, pulling it up and over his head in one fluid movement. Something that didn’t go a miss with Jensen, the cloud that seemed to descend around them. Jared didn’t want to talk, which was fine with Jensen. He'd taste it later, every last drop of Jared’s life as it spilled out of his neck and pulsed over his tongue, his memories, each and every one of them. He'd give over to Jensen as his heart slowed and his body gave up the fight, as he slipped from this world. 

Just another street kid, unnoticed in some dingy motel room. 

Alone.

Unloved. 

Forgotten.

Jared was about to ask what Jensen wanted, what he preferred, his fingers automatically going to his belt buckle when Jensen stepped into his space, stilled Jared’s hand. “Take your time, I’m going to shower,” Jensen said, hoping there would be enough hot water to work some heat into his cold skin, though why he was carrying on the pretence he didn’t know. He had Jared where he wanted him, alone, almost naked, and vulnerable. 

Jensen stepped aside toward the bathroom, and sensed Jared’s warring emotions. Relief, the scent strong, powerful but not powerful enough to disguise the want, the need that coursed through Jared’s body.

It made Jensen smile to himself as he left the bathroom door ajar, just enough for Jared to see, to watch as Jensen shed his clothes. 

He pulled his T-shirt over his head, to tousle the short, dark-blonde spikes of hair and reveal strong, muscular shoulders, a smattering of cinnamon freckles noticeable against the paleness of his skin. He reached for the button on his jeans, first the top, and second as he yanked the rest free, enough for them to slide down his legs, and pool at his feet, followed by his shorts, until he was naked. He paused, waited for a moment, enough for Jared to look his fill before turning on the shower, relieved when the small bathroom quickly filled with steam. The water was hot and more than enough for Jensen to carry on the charade. He stepped into the heat of the shower and almost groaned as the warmth permeated his skin, spread across his chest, massaged his shoulders, his limbs. It was something Jensen never tired of, the pretence of warm flesh never failed to bring him pleasure. 

Despite the absent heartbeat he could, just for a moment bask in the belief that he was alive, a person and not some undead thing. 

Jensen sensed rather than saw Jared approach, and was grateful he’d had enough time to stand under the hot spray, before Jared stepped into the small cubicle; the steam escaping the open door as Jared edged his way in, closer toward Jensen. 

“You don’t mind?” Jared said, loud enough to be heard above the shower spray. He reached up to brush his hair from his face, plastered it to his scalp as the water soaked it, made it appear even longer than it was. 

“Beautiful!” Jensen said again. Free of his clothes, his inhibitions, and fear, Jared was even more beautiful, now that his face wasn’t hidden by his hair, his eyes free of their watchful gaze. Once again, Jensen was tempted to warn Jared of the danger he was in, but held back. He could take him, here and now, be done with the niceties, just fuck his way into him and taste his orgasm amid his dying breath. 

He almost did.

Until Jared answered Jensen’s compliments with one of his own.

“So are you,” Jared said. “So beautiful.”

It was something Jensen hadn’t heard in over a century. Sure he’d been flattered with compliments. Jensen was not ignorant of his looks, it was what made him so successful at luring them in. His height, broad shoulders, plump luscious lips, and eyelashes that naturally curled to frame the most beautiful green eyes all played their part.

But none that came from the heart or sounded sincere, merely a way of getting into his pants. 

There was an innocence about Jared, a sincerity that made each word ring true, and left Jensen with a bone-deep ache. 

“What do you want?” Jared asked, his voice wavering again, almost as if this was all new to him. Perhaps it was; he was just a kid, perhaps he was just unlucky enough to become snared in Jensen’s net before becoming accustomed to life on streets. 

Maybe it was all part of an act, a pretence on Jared’s part too, but Jensen doubted it. He’d smell a lie before it had a chance to pass Jared’s lips. He was young, his innocence tainted but still there, still salvageable, and Jensen wanted, yearned to taste it. 

“If I promise not to hurt you, will you trust me?” Jensen asked. Already he could feel the hunger dampen down as desire rose up take its place. 

Jared swallowed, made eye contact with Jensen, the steam from the shower almost masking the way Jensen’s eyes shifted from green to a golden hue. He knew that he could force Jared to comply with everything Jensen wanted, make him do anything he asked, but what he wanted was something he hadn’t tasted in such a long time. 

Free will.

Jared stepped back, the small cubicle not leaving much room to escape. 

“Relax,” Jensen said. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“What do you want?” Jared said, but this time there was fear in his voice, not so much a request as a way of gaining his survival.

“I want to taste you,” Jensen replied. His hand reaching up to cup Jared’s cheek, the other reaching to turn off the shower spray, all need for pretence gone.

Jared looked afraid, but held his ground, Jensen’s thumb making small, sure strokes across his cheekbone a calming rather than a sexual act. He nodded and stepped toward Jensen, lowered his face to Jensen’s in a clumsy attempt at a kiss, when Jensen’s fangs descended.

“No, I mean I want to taste you!” Jensen said, his voice an octave lower, huskier than before. His eyes deepening to a burnished gold, as the realisation of what he wanted dawned on Jared. “Or you could leave,” Jensen offered. 

Jensen was surprised to realise that he meant it, if Jared didn’t willingly want to stay, then Jensen wouldn’t force the issue. He wanted everything Jared had to offer, but he wanted it freely. Was willing to guarantee Jared’s safety in return for his free will. 

“Well?” Jensen said, his fangs once more tucked safely into his gum line, out of sight. 

“How do I know you won’t kill me?” Jared asked, the fear in is voice crashing to the surface and spilling past his lips. 

“You don’t,” Jensen said, “You do however have to trust me.”

“Trust you?” Jared said, shivering slightly as the heat generated by the shower began to chill, the steam gone giving Jared his first real look at Jensen. 

Jared was right. Jensen was beautiful. The beauty of his green eyes concealed, totally wiped out by the rich golden glow. Even more freckles across his nose, and cheeks. His lips plump and blood red. Less threatening now that his fangs were no longer visible. So beautiful that Jared was loathed to take his eyes off Jensen, a heady mix of trepidation and want. While every fibre of his being was screaming at him to run, to take Jensen up on his offer. To grab what he could of his clothes in his haste to get to the door, but there was an even greater need to stay. 

Plus, he couldn’t afford to leave, to give Jensen back his money, even if he wanted to. Not if he wanted to eat and keep a roof over his head. Already he had his landlord breathing down his neck for last month’s rent and Jared was sure what Jensen had given him would more than cover that. It was a shithole of a dump, but it was better than the alternative. 

“Okay,” Jared said, as he reached for his hair, tucking it back behind his ear as he tilted his head to expose his neck, trusting Jensen to take just as much as he’d promised, a taste, and was surprised when Jensen shook his head.

“When I said, I wanted to taste you; I meant all of you,” Jensen said as he shoved at Jared’s chest, forcing him to step out of the narrow shower cubicle and into the bathroom. 

“How old are you?” Jared said, reaching for a towel, using it to ruffle his hair dry as he felt Jensen step up behind him, his nerves rankling beneath his skin; hair standing on end as a whole cluster of goose bumps appeared, fear at war with excitement, ratcheting up as Jensen spoke, he was so close. 

“Twenty-two, or at least I was back then,” Jensen replied. 

“How long? I mean when did you…” Jared hesitated, his mouth suddenly too dry, his tongue tripping over the words, at the impossibility of the situation, and yet…

“Become a vampire?” Jensen said. 

Jared, faltered, almost tripped over his feet as he made his way across the bedroom, toward the bed, conscious of Jensen behind him, not knowing when it would come, if Jensen would stay true to his word. Vampire, it was impossible, but… 

“Turn around,” Jensen said, catching Jared by shoulder and forcing him to look at Jensen. “Two hundred years, and I have never seen anything more beautiful.”

Jared opened his mouth to ask; he had so many questions… like would it hurt? Would he become a vampire? Or was he free to leave as Jensen had promised. 

“Relax, I’ll tell you when,” Jensen said, putting Jared at ease, the last thing he wanted was to lose the moment to fear of the bite. Normally, Jensen would revel in the fear, coax and persuade it. However, he could, but this was different. This wasn’t about watching Jared die at Jensen’s hand. It was about watching him come alive, feeling him react to every single touch, taste his desire, finding that sliver of hope, that made Jared so different, and drinking it dry. 

Jensen watched as Jared nodded, surprised at the trust Jared seemed to offer, freely and without reservation. He took a moment to look his fill, brushed a lock of hair away from Jared’s face to better see, and noted that Jared was even more beautiful up close. His eyes a mixture of blues and browns neither one nor the other, but both. He let his gaze linger, just a fraction. “I’m not going to hurt you,” Jensen promised as he shifted his gaze to Jared’s mouth, marvelled at how still Jared was. Most would have screamed or tried to escape long before now, but not Jared, and Jensen found himself feeling… pride; he was proud of Jared for staying, whether it was bravery or stupidity, Jensen favoured the first, and felt a rush of something akin to admiration for the kid, along with a heavy dose of want. 

“I’m going to make it; you feel so good,” Jensen promised as he reached up and pulled Jared’s head down, “So good.”

Jensen was careful to sheath his fangs as he kissed Jared, something he hadn’t done in almost a century, kissed someone. He stalked; he hunted. He made them beg, but never, not once in a hundred years had he felt the pleasure of simple kiss. 

“You’re so cold,” Jared whispered. 

“Hush,” Jensen said, as he pushed against Jared’s chest, causing him to take a step back, and another until the backs of his knees made contact with the bed.

Jensen following him down, all the way until Jared was flat on his back, Jensen a solid weight above him. 

A hundred years, and not once had anyone managed to peak Jensen’s interest, food yes, sport, definitely, but sex, there’d been no one, until now. Jensen braced his hands either side of Jared’s head, as he stared down at him, his eyes golden once more. 

“Do you trust me?” Jensen asked.

Jared nodded, canting his hips so as Jensen could feel Jared’s cock, already hard and leaking pre come, a sign that they were way past trust.

“Then trust I won’t hurt you,” Jensen said, voice laden with sincerity. “No matter what happens, trust that you’ll walk out of here alive and unharmed.

Jared nodded once more, spread his legs making a space for Jensen, and was rewarded with a smile, something else that was rare for Jensen. Normally, his smiles were all teeth and torture, another instrument of pain, pure malevolence but not this one. It sat a little lop-sided on Jensen’s face, unused, a hundred years in the making, and never more beautiful. 

Jensen felt the heat radiating from Jared’s body, and groaned as he lowered his head, eyes closed as he licked a path up to Jared’s neck, paused to press his tongue against Jared’s carotid artery, part pleasure, as it throbbed against Jensen’s touch and part testing Jared.

Jensen groaned deeper, louder when Jared didn’t as much as flinch, instead, Jared lifted up, his cock hard, wet, a heavy weight between them as Jared bent his knees, dug his feet against the mattress for purchase and groaned as his cock made contact with the muscular slab of Jensen’s stomach. 

“That’s it,” Jensen coaxed as he brushed a kiss, against Jared’s jawline, another across his cheek, searching and finding Jared’s mouth, and savouring his heated breath before delving in with his tongue, realising just how much he’d missed this. The warmth of a living body, the closeness, the want, the need. He could already feel some of Jared’s heat against his cold flesh, warming him, almost to the point where Jensen could fool himself into believing… 

If it wasn’t for the prick of his fangs, not quite descended, a constant reminder of what he was, of what he was capable of.

But he’d promised and a promise made was a promise kept - even for a vampire.

Jensen lingered, loathe to give up the sweet taste of Jared’s mouth, but wanting to explore every last inch of Jared, of having Jared willing, compliant beneath him. He dipped his head, caught Jared’s bottom lip between his teeth, sucked, and pulled at it careful not to draw blood – not yet – his whole body was screaming for the first real taste, but Jensen held back, wanting more. 

Wanting everything Jared seemed more than willing to give. 

“Hold still,” Jensen said, fighting his own desire, his own needs. The need to feed almost painful, but secondary to the need to take pleasure in a warm and willing body. 

In Jared.

Jensen took advantage of the space Jared had made for him between his spread thighs, lifted up and away slightly, and looked down to where his cock, brushed up against Jared’s thick and heavy, hard for the first time in a long time. Usually inflicting pain was enough to turn him on, have him ready, but not pleasure. Not in an age had he come from desire alone, a shared desire, to give as much as he was willing to take. Normally, he just took and be damned, but watching Jared, watching the way his eyes almost shifted colour, brown, and then blue, the flush of life in his cheeks, and his mouth open, his breath hot against Jensen’s skin. Jensen wanted more, anything, and everything. To savour this moment for the rarity that it was. 

This was something; this was what he’d missed, what had haunted him for centuries. Someone to use his name, and it not be out of fear, or loathing, or disgust. 

He tore his gaze from where his cock brushed up against Jared’s, and looked Jared in the eye, intent evident on his face and waited for Jared’s consent, groaned when Jared nodded. Anticipation causing his fangs to protest, to push against his gums, but Jensen held himself in check, ready for his first real taste of Jared as he lowered his head and licked a path up Jared’s cock, over the crown, to collect the wetness that leaked from it, and back down the other side. 

“Oh god,” Jensen groaned, aware of the irony, but… 

A hundred years of existing, of never truly being alive. Sure he’d been around for longer, but that was before he’d become bored with just being, of moving from victim to victim, country to country, searching for something, that missing piece. The thing that made him want to live, want to experience life in all its wonder.

“Oh god,” Jensen said again, as he repeated the motion, lingered to lap at Jared’s slit, revelling in the hot splash of pre come. It tasted of salt, sure, but to Jensen it tasted of so much more, of summer, of long walks at sunset, basking in the last rays of the day with someone you loved. It tasted of fun, and laughter, everything that had been missing in his two-hundred years of existence. 

It tasted of home, and for a moment Jensen almost gave in to his baser urges, to take and take until there was nothing left. To annihilate what he couldn’t have, what he’d lost, but then Jared groaned, a deep, lust-filled groan of pleasure, which stopped Jensen in his tracks. 

“Turn over,” Jensen said, fighting his instincts, not wanting Jared to see just how much of a struggle it was to keep to his word. 

Jared didn’t hesitate, he turned over, lifted himself until he was on all fours, looked over his shoulder as Jensen’s fangs descended and flinched as Jensen bit into his own wrist. Jared watched the blood flow freely from the wound, several drops spilling onto the white sheet, as Jensen held his wrist at the small of Jared’s back, waited as the blood flowed freely between the cleft of Jared’s ass. 

Jared looked away. He felt his cock twitch despite what he’d just seen, part of him disbelieving, the other stronger part excited as Jensen pressed in with one finger, rotated it and slipped it back out. This time pushing in with a second finger opening Jared up, until Jared no longer cared about the blood, or anything but the sheer pleasure of having Jensen inside him. 

“Please,” Jared moaned. “Jensen, please.”

Usually when someone begged Jensen for release, it was from the pain, no longer able to withstand the horror, but this…

 

It was everything Jensen wanted, and everything he couldn’t have, not without making Jared like him, and that would mean destroying what made Jared so special, his humanity. His naiveté, his trust in the world, in a vampire. 

“Please Jensen,” Jared said again as Jensen shook himself of his thoughts. He took hold of his cock, fisted himself, once, twice stealing back the hardness his melancholy had robbed him of before sliding his cock between Jared’s ass cheeks. Teasing around his hole as Jared tried to push back against Jensen, needing more, needing to feel the cold, hard thrust of Jensen’s cock.

Jensen slid his hand up Jared’s back, felt the sweat that glistened despite the chill of the room, and Jensen’s lack of body heat, and for once was grateful Jared needed a haircut as, he twisted his fingers in Jared’s hair, forcing his neck to stretch, his head to lift as he thrust home.

Jensen didn’t want to move. He just wanted to savour the feel of Jared’s body beneath him, around him, as it cradled him. He wanted to remember every moment, the way Jared felt, hot, tight, and oh, so welcoming. The way Jared sounded, hoarse, ragged, and desperate. 

Alive.

Jensen knew what it was like to die, had savoured death after death and more besides, but this…

This is what it was like to live. To really live.

“Move,” Jared said, breaking Jensen from his reverie and bringing him back from wherever his musings had taken him.

“Jensen?” Jared said, unsure as Jensen remained still, taking in every sound, every sight, smell, right down to the cheap soap powder used on the sheets. He wanted to catalogue everything, needed it to sustain him another hundred years, or until some hunter finally caught up with him. 

And then he moved, withdrew all the way, and slammed into Jared, fingers tightening their grip on Jared’s hair as he thrust in and out, rotated his hips and was rewarded with a deep, guttural groan as Jared pushed back into every single snap of Jensen’s hips. 

“So good,” Jensen praised. “So damn good,” he continued, as he leaned back on his haunches, bringing Jared with him until he was seated in Jensen’s lap, the action forcing Jensen deeper with each thrust, harder. His teeth descending, no longer able to control the where, and the when as lust took over. Jensen’s eyes a burnished gold, blazing with a hundred-year wait for this, for this moment. He was a taker, a taker of life, of love, of memories. He had nothing to offer, but pain…

“Jensen?” Jared pleaded as Jensen found the spot he’d been searching for, thrust hard against it as Jared tilted his head back, neck muscles pulled tight to the point of pain. Blood thumping through Jared’s carotid artery, loud as it pounded in Jensen’s ears, tempting, teasing becoming louder with each thrust of Jensen’s hips. Jared’s cock hard, and heavy as it jutted out from between his splayed thighs, waiting, almost pleading for Jensen’s touch. 

“I’m right here,” Jensen said as he circled Jared’s cock with his free hand, the coldness of his hand against the heat of Jared’s skin almost sending Jared over the edge. Jensen’s other hand still twisted in Jared’s hair, as he thrust upward, fisted Jared’s cock in time with each movement. Holding on to the promise he’d made Jared, but he was close, so close, and he needed, oh, god he needed. 

“Jensen?” Jared said, desperate, and ragged, almost there, almost…

Jensen closed his eyes, as Jared tightened around his cock, the ring of muscle clenching as it massaged Jensen, tighter… tighter… 

Jensen was there, felt Jared’s orgasm as it spilled over his hand, and heard the loud moan of pleasure, as he sank his teeth into Jared’s neck, sharp, pincer like wounds that Jensen held tight to, the blood flowing freely over his tongue, thick and delicious. 

“Enough,” Jared said, as Jensen continued to feed, to search out that elusive something that had drawn him to Jared. “Jensen enough,” Jared pleaded. 

Jensen moaned, drank deeper, searching, pulling Jared’s head to a side tightening the grip he had on Jared, almost there, almost…

Hope, it danced over his tongue, slipped down his throat like nectar to the gods. He wanted more, but knew he’d already reached the point of no return, much longer and…

Jensen retracted his fangs, held tight to Jared as he slumped forward, head bowed, and breathing shallow. Jensen lapped at the wound, his saliva going a long way to stopping the bleeding, and beginning the healing process. 

…

Jensen pulled back the curtain of the motel, the sky a dull, dishwater grey, a sure sign that dawn wasn’t far away. He glanced toward the bed, to Jared and took in the sight of his hair, dishevelled, plastered to the pillow, the sheet stained with both their blood, but mostly Jared’s. He walked over to the bed, and pulled the sheet from Jared’s body, bundled it up and shoved it at the bottom of the bin in the bathroom. Jensen doubted very much the cleaning service would care, not in this dump, but you could never be too careful. He walked back into the bedroom, grabbed the comforter from the bottom of the bed and used it to cover Jared, before dropping to his haunches by the bed. 

“Hey,” Jensen said, stroking a lock of hair away from Jared’s face. “Come on sunshine wake up.” 

“What?” Jared said, blinking once, and again before becoming accustomed to the overhead light. He was pale and weak from the blood loss, and yet somehow he managed a smile.

“I’ve got to go, but I’ll pay for another night before I leave, and there’s a “do not disturb” sign on the door. Stay, rest, and take a cab home.”

“Will I see you again?” Jared asked, quiet, hopeful. 

“Jared, if a vampire approaches you for anything other than directions, you run, as fast and as hard as you can,” Jensen said.

“Even you?” Jared teased. 

“Especially me,” Jensen replied, his smile easier now, a lightness to his step as he made for the door. “Remember take a cab home, and if you need anything…” 

“How will I find you?” Jared asked. 

“Just purse your lips and blow,” Jensen joked. 

“What?” Jared said, his face a mask of confusion. 

“Philistine,” Jensen said, smile widening. “I’ve got your scent, I’ll find you.”

“And Jared?” Jensen said, one hand on the doorknob. “I’ll be watching.”


End file.
